All This and Heaven Too
by unostalgic
Summary: Every time she's near, he's too far away. Every time he's open, she's shut. The contrasts between them may be great, but they fit together like two halves of one heart. Irosami Week 2012.
1. The Night is Yours Alone

_Prompt__:_ Forgiveness.

_Summary__: Iroh won't let the sun settle on an argument, no matter how many times Asami closes her door on him. _

* * *

**The Night is Yours Alone**

Iroh has never been the romantic type. He's always been too busy worrying about the Forces; he hardly has the time to think about such sentimentality as feelings of affection or love, even. His thoughts usually consist of the men, the ships, the voyages, and the sea. But at 2:07am, General Iroh finds himself thinking of only one person, standing at the doorstep of her massive estate.

He's not sure exactly how he had gotten there in the first place, all he knows is that one minute he was tossing and turning in his bed, telling himself to forget everything, then the next he was halfway across Republic City because he couldn't.

It was only one careless comment he had thrown out about her father or something stupid like that, meant as a joke. But Asami had taken it personally, and now she's not speaking to him. She has every right to be furious, but he won't sleep until he has her forgiveness.

So he stands under the window of a large bedroom on the second floor, whispering her name as loudly as he can without waking the other members of the estate. Of course she doesn't hear him.

He picks up a rock from the garden and praying to the gods it doesn't smash through the glass and kill her, he tosses it directly at her window. It bounces off with a ker-thunk, but it hasn't stirred a soul. Unnerved, the General picks up another, larger this time, and tosses it up again. It hits louder, and he sees the curtains rustle.

He waits, still, expecting his love to appear on the balcony, moved by his devotion to her. Then he'll apologize, declare his everlasting love for her and they'll run off into the sunset together holding hands and live happily ever after.

But all that appears is a paper airplane, flying out through the crack in the window she's opened. It immediately shuts again. Iroh unfolds it.

_I'm not talking to you. Go home, Iroh. _

Does she think he'll give up so easily? He's always been such a stubborn determined person, and he's not changing today. He throws another rock, and another, and another. They all hit the glass louder than the last. Then finally, he sees a light turn on in her room.

It turns off just as quickly.

So he selects a very large rock from the garden, about the size of his fist, and throws it as hard as he can, not at the window, but at the fancy potter plant sitting on the balcony.

Bullseye – it shatters loudly into pieces.

He hears a soft shriek from inside, and as he expects, the balcony doors swing open and she leans over the rail, wearing an expression of utter irritation.

"Took you long enough," Iroh says. The girl is not amused, at all.

"You're crazy. You have to go home right now. I'm not talking to you."

"You know what? I don't care. What I said was stupid and thoughtless and I shouldn't have said it. You deserve an apology. I'm not leaving until you hear me out."

"No."

"Fine. Then I'll stay out her the whole night, until tomorrow morning."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

For a second, Asami's expression is one of disbelief, but it quickly changes back to frustration and nonchalance. Iroh has the urge to smirk. She's underestimating him – she thinks he'll give up, go home, sleep and come back tomorrow, where they'll do it all over again. But little does she know.

He really means it. He's not going to leave, he's going to make her listen. Once he does that, he'll tell her how stupid and sorry he is, and beg for her forgiveness. He'll then make it up to her. They'll go out to a nice fancy dinner, and talk for hours well after the sun goes down. And they won't care because they'll be the only two people in the world at that time and place. Then everything will go back to the way it was.

He's willing to do it, absolutely. Because he loves Asami Sato more than anything in the world, whatever he has to do to get her to forgive him, he'll do it without hesitation. If she wants him to climb Mount Makapu, he will. If she wants him to run stark naked through the marketplace, he will. If she wants him to go away, he will, but he'll return the next day, and the next, and the next.

It doesn't matter – she needs to know how much he's willing to do for her. She needs to know how much he loves her.

And she realizes, the next morning, when she opens her balcony doors and sees him sleeping on the grass outside in the exact same place he was last night, that he was telling the truth.


	2. All Those Pretty Lights

_Prompt: Permission.  
_

_Summary__: On a very special night, Iroh is all work and no play. A moped ride, some fireworks and two egg custard tarts later, Asami Sato shows him what he's missing.  
_

* * *

**All Those Pretty Lights**

At 11:24PM on New Years Eve, General Iroh is alone.

He's possibly the only person in Republic City who is all by his lonesome on this night. He can see through his windows that the rest of the city has no intention of sleeping tonight. He's unsurprisingly okay with this, it happens every year. Festivity and celebration are just not part of a military life, and not part of his either.

Still, there's always that one little part of him that wishes that didn't have to be the case anymore.

Sighing, Iroh walks over to the window and opens it up a little to let the cool breeze in – the town square is illuminated. He can't quite make out what is happening, but it must be some kind of celebration. The whole city must be rejoicing; following the revolution, it's been an emotional rollercoaster. One day there's good news, celebrating the defeat of the Equalists, and then the next there's bad news that some Equalists must still be out there. People haven't had much to smile about since then, but there's today when everything is forgotten for one night. If only he had such reason, but as a general he has duties and obligations – parties and festivals come second.

The tired general rubs his eyes and turns away from the panoramic view, and prepares himself for another few hours of work before going to bed.

"I knew you would be here."

Iroh jumps, and turns around to see that Asami Sato has climbed through the open window.

"Jesus, Asami. Don't scare me like that again."

"Sorry, General. But everyone's down at the Square and you're the only one missing."

"What are you doing here anyway? It's almost midnight."

"What are _you_ doing here? It's almost midnight on New Year's Eve and you're working?"

Iroh shrugs and returns to the maps laid out on his desk.

"I never understood what people found so festive about it. It's just another 365 days of work." He mutters.

"Well it wouldn't be all work if you just learned to play."

"I have no time for such celebrations."

Asami throws her hands up.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Iroh? You can't just work your life away."

Iroh just shrugs and returns to the routes he's been mapping for the past two hours. Asami promptly snatches them from the desk and crumples them up in her hands.

"What—"

"Come on."

Asami grabs his hand and they run outside where Asami's white moped is parked in the middle of the street.

"You're not supposed to park there, Asami,that's a pedestrian walkway—"

"Didn't ask for your opinion, General."

She quickly fastens her helmet and throws a spare to him. He has just enough time to put it on and jump onto the moped before Asami tears down the road.

"Hey!"

She rips through the traffic. The headlights of the cars blink on either side of them and a slew of angry honks is directed at them, but she just cuts across every intersection and tears through every stop sign.

"Asami, you're going to get us killed."

"Just trust me!"

Iroh is going to have a hard time doing that.

Eventually, she swerves her Moped into Republic City Park. The entire area is alive with chatter and lights. Everyone in the park is carrying a small cylindrical lantern. Shades of red, yellow, green and blue lanterns colour the area. The smell of freshly prepared egg custard tarts drifts through the air towards them. Iroh's stomach growls and Asami hears it. She laughs.

"Hungry? Come this way."

It's already 11:47PM, almost midnight. Asami drags him by the hand all over the festival. They buy egg tarts, watch some of the dance performances, and even manage to get a hold of some lanterns. Iroh's is green, Asami's is pink. Iroh's surprised to admit it, but he's having a good time. He's never let loose like this before, he's never been so wild and spontaneous. It feels good.

But the best part is, she still hasn't let go of his hand yet.

"You ever done anything like this before?" Asami asks him. Iroh shakes his head.

"You're missing out, Iroh. It's one of the best nights of the year," Asami smiles, her mouth full of custard, "everyone all over the world celebrates the same thing. We're all united at this one time."

There's some sense in her words. He's happy, truly happy, for the first time in a long time. And everyone else around him is happy too. It's a refreshing feeling, seeing smiles wherever he went. It makes him smile too.

"Anything else I should know about New Years?"

"Well, you make as much noise as you can, to ward off bad spirits, wish people a happy new year, and everyone kisses at midnight."

He almost spits out his egg tart as the last one, but Asami seems unfazed.

"What?"

"It's true. When the clock strikes twelve, that's when you do it."

"Why do they do that?"

Asami shrugs and looks down. Iroh polishes off his egg tart and eyes the two lanterns.

"So then. What are these for?" he asks, toying with the pink one. They're both quite pretty, adorned with intricate hand-drawn designs, and an unlit candle stuck to the inside.

"It's good luck to have one when the clock chimes twelve. They're supposed to symbolize light a guidance in the new year."

Iroh smirks a little. Asami looks a little annoyed.

"What is it?"

"Nothing, but all these customs. Aren't they just…folklore? Things people do so they won't have to blame themselves when something goes wrong in the New Year?"

"In that case, I'll just have twice as much light and guidance in my new year."

She promptly picks up both lanterns from the grass and begins in the direction of the town square. Iroh hastily gets up and tries to take it back, but she's fast and manages to dodge him.

"Hey. I never said you could take my lantern."

"I never asked for your permission. Weren't you the one who said it was all folklore?"

"Well, yes, but—"

"Fine by me."

"Hey!"

She takes up off the hill with them, laughing.

Aw hell.

He does too. Good thing for him, he's a lot faster than her and catches up easily. With one hand around her waist, he swings her around while she's out of breath from laughing and running, and snatches his lantern back. Then they hear it.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

They both look over to the clock. The second hand ticks ten seconds, nine seconds, eight seconds to midnight.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

Asami looks up at him expectantly. Her gaze is so stark and direct; his heart does a little jump in his chest.

"Four! Three! Two!"

Iroh looks down at her. She hasn't broken their eye contact, not yet. They're so close he can see his own reflection in the blacks of her pupils.

"Two!"

_She wants me to kiss her. _

"One!"

_Should I? _

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

The town square erupts with cheer. The sky is suddenly explodes with fireworks of red, yellow and blue. Under the sparkling night sky, Asami is still holding Iroh's hand, which she hasn't let go of since 11:47PM. She leans her head ever so slightly towards him.

And because he's such an idiotic, cowardly chicken who told her New Year's customs were all folklore, he looks up and out at the clock to see the rest of the people laughing, kissing their loved ones and lighting their lanterns.

Asami's face falls, only slightly. She steps away from him.

"Happy New Year, Iroh."

"Happy New Year, Asami."

They stand in silence for a while, a grey cloud of apprehension hanging between them. Iroh silently lights the lanterns and hands them both to her. She should have twice as much light in her life, she deserves it. Not the guy who was too cowardly to kiss a girl at midnight.

The silence is carried all the way back to Iroh's home. The pink and green lanterns hang limply on the back of her moped.

"You sure you don't want these?" she asks finally, gesturing to them.

"Uh, they're yours. If you want them."

She nods. There's a very long pause in which neither of them does or says anything.

_Do it now. _

"Did you have fun tonight?" she asks quietly.

He smiles and thinks back to it all.

"I did. Thank you for everything.

"You're welcome."

_Do it now, fool. _

But he lets his mouth hang slack and all he can manage is smiling a little. She bites her lip and nods her head in farewell. Then the helmet goes back on, and she's gone. Iroh stands there in the cool night breeze, watching until the pink and green lights fade off into the distance.

Alone again, even in the new year.


	3. Pearl

Prompt: Tea. _  
_

_Summary_: AU (in which Iroh is a normal citizen and has never met Asami). Iroh has had enough of his cumbersome job working at the tea shop. He would leave, if not for the pretty black haired, Black Tea Girl who comes in every morning without fail.

* * *

**Pearl **

"One Jasmine please."

"Two ginger, for takeaway."

"One ginseng tea."

Working at the tea shop is a bore, but Iroh's rent won't pay itself.

Every morning, the customers who come into the tea shop are even grumpier than he is, and he's not even a morning person. They'll come in, scowling, spit their tea orders at him and while they're waiting they'll tap their feet and irritably check their watches every few seconds.

There's only one thing he looks forward to every morning though, and that is seeing a girl, a really pretty one, with long black hair, walking into the shop at 7:35, every day without fail.

He's not even sure when he started to realize she was there. One morning, she was just another faceless person and the next, she hit him like a train. He couldn't concentrate for the entire day, the first time he noticed her, even well after she left the shop.

He doesn't even know who she is. He just knows that every morning, she orders more or less the same thing- one lichee black tea with pearls. It costs four Yuan and she always pays in coins.

She must be a corporate business woman or involved in work like that because she wears a fitted jacket and heels to the shop every day. Every time he sees her, Iroh finds himself studying every detail of her in the most subtle way possible. The way she fastens only the middle buttons of her jacket, how one strand of hair falls out of her clip, even the way she purses her lips slightly when she's bothered by the grumbling customers behind her but doesn't want to show it.

It's a little sad, that the black-haired, Black Tea Girl has become the best part of his day.

But for some reason, he can't bring himself to say a word to her.

Their interaction is limited. She'll walk in at exactly 7:35AM, she'll go up to the counter, heels clicking, and order her regular lichee black tea with pearls on the go. Whoever else is working the shift with him will take the order; Iroh will make it and hand the tea over to her. She always says 'thank you', and gives him a small smile before leaving.

It really is the best part of his day.

He's such a loser.

One particular morning, his friend Bolin is working the shift with him. They usually work the mornings together, with Bolin taking orders and Iroh behind him making tea. Of course, Iroh gets all the work, and Bolin gets all the flirty winks from the passing ladies.

Thankfully, Black Tea Girl hasn't given him one just yet.

As Iroh watches the black tea girl walk out the door, Bolin must've noticed. Iroh receives a hard punch to the shoulder.

"Ow. What was that for?"

"Every morning, that girl comes in here and you just stare at her with your mouth hanging open like this—"

He lets his mouth fall agape and his eyes glass over. Iroh shakes his head, looking down to hide the red flush in his cheeks.

"Don't be stupid. That doesn't happen."

Iroh looks up to see Bolin with his arms crossed, leaning against the counter and looking down at him expectantly. He has his authoritative 'don't lie to me' face on.

"She's pretty." Iroh manages finally, shrugging nonchalantly. Bolin scoffs loudly enough to make the whole tea shop turn and look. He raises his hand in apology and lowers his voice.

"Pretty? She's beautiful."

"If you say so."

"Ask her out to dinner or something."

"How about no?"

"Why not?"

"I make her tea every day, but I've never even said a word to her," Iroh sighs, "I don't even know her name, anyway."

"Ask for it then. How hard could it be?"

"Very. I'm not the one taking her order."

"Fine, then we'll swap shifts. You take her order tomorrow."

Well, he can't argue with that. Can he?

So the next morning, Iroh works the counter. He takes orders from a few businessmen who are half asleep before she walks in.

And it's a Saturday, so she's not wearing her regular suit.

Instead, she's wearing a pair of aviator pants and a red fitted shirt; she has a helmet propped underneath her arm and her hair is windblown so she must own a bike or something.

She looks damn good in those pants. Iroh has to keep himself at her eye level as she's walking to her counter. Hey, he's only male.

"Regular lichee black tea with pearls, please."

Look at that, it's not to go today, either.

She hands over the four yuan in coins. Their hands brush against each other for a split second (he's over-thinking it), and she gives him that same soft smile that makes his stomach do somersaults.

Bolin eyes him and winks as Asami goes to sit at one of the tables. As he goes over to make the black tea, he gestures over to where she's sitting near the window.

"You should go join her. She looks like she needs some company."

Bolin earns a smack to the side of his head, but he's right. Black tea girl is sitting alone, and she's not even reading a book or fiddling with her clothes while she's waiting. She's just sitting at the table, staring off into the distance. It's like the universe is trying to play matchmaker or something.

Bolin hands him the tea and pushes him in her direction.

"Go get her, tiger."

If Black Tea Girl hadn't been watching him at that moment, Iroh would've smacked him again. But she's watching him with slight, momentary interest. She turns away after a second though, but that one point of eye contact is going to stay with him for a long time.

He walks across the shop to where she's seated by the window and sets the tea down in front of her.

"Thank you." She says.

_Just asks her if she wants to go to dinner. Or stargazing. Or fishing. Anything. _

"I…"

The girl looks up at him with her earnest green eyes.

"I was wondering…"

What is it about this girl that gets him so wound up? Sure, she's gorgeous, but she's just another girl. He's liked girls before. She isn't any different.

Yet, he's been trying to convince himself otherwise, and it hasn't worked.

"I was wondering…if you…" he manages. He can practically see Bolin's gleeful smile right through the back of his head.

"…yes?" she asks expectantly.

_What if she says no? What if she rejects you? _

This momentary panic settles in over him.

"…if you needed this. With your tea." He grasps the closest object on the table behind him and plants it in front of her.

He hears Bolin smack his forehead loudly on the other side of the room.

The girl raises an eyebrow and eyes what he's placed there. An uncomfortable smile settles on her face.

"With…my tea?"

Iroh looks down to see that he's put a salt shaker on the table.

He prays to the gods to strike him down dead at this moment. Never in his life has he wished so hard that the floor would open up and swallow him, or that a huge wave washes into the shop and carries him to the south pole, or **anything** else. As long as it makes him disappear.

He's _such an idiot. _

He promptly snatches the salt shaker from the table and silently walks over to the counter where Bolin now has a red hand shaped mark on his forehead.

"You have no idea how sad that was to watch, buddy."

"Don't."

That one moment almost kept him from going to work the next day.

When he sees her walk into the shop on Sunday, he almost bowls over his manager in an attempt to get to the storeroom to hide.

"Whoa there, son. Someone's called in sick. You're on table duty today."

Oh, god.

"Table duty?"

"Yes. Easy stuff – wipe down tables, mop the floor, tend to customers. You know the drill."

Table duty. That means he won't be able to hide behind the counters and the machines, he's going to be mopping the floor at Black Tea Girl's feet.

Why today. Why **today? **

All his worries go to hell when she comes in, 7:35AM as usual.

She looks his way and lets her eyes linger on him for a fraction of a second as she goes up to the counter to get her drink. Bolin shoots him a look across the room while taking her order. He nods his head subtly over to the window, then at the mop.

He mouths 'go wait for her'.

Iroh mouths 'no way in hell'.

Bolin just rolls his eyes and watches as Black Tea Girl, today wearing a white blouse and a red jacket, and those damn aviator pants, walks over and takes the same seat she did the day before. Iroh quickly and discreetly pretends to be preoccupied with getting a stain out of a table as far away from her as possible, but he can feel her gaze on him.

When he thinks she's about to leave (it's already been fifteen minutes), Iroh looks up, but is irritated to see Bolin just carrying her drink out.

Bull. That drink takes two minutes to make.

He watches as Bolin sets the tea down on the table, and not-so-subtly knock it with his elbow so it spills all over the table.

That little bastard.

"Hey, _Iroh!_ Come here and help clean this mess up!"

He's going to crack Bolin's head open once she's gone.

His face flaming, Iroh quickly makes his way over to Black Tea Girl's table. Without looking at her at all, he wipes the table down as she apologizes.

"I'm so sorry, this was an accident…" she murmurs.

"—don't worry about it. It was my friend's fault. He's a klutz." he mumbles quickly. He mops up the tea that's dripped down under the table near her feet. Black Tea Girl laughs softly.

"So am I."

"I am too," he lowers his voice to a mutter she's not supposed to hear, "if you didn't realize yesterday."

But she hears it. At least it makes her chuckle again. Her laugh is so pretty, like music. It's so pretty, like her.

"You know what?" she says softly, "it's kind of cute."

Wait.

What?

Did he just hear what he thought he did?

She thinks he's cute.

_She thinks he's cute. _

The best he can do to respond is stammer.

"You're cute...too. Uh, I mean, you're pretty. You are."

_Where the hell did that come from, Iroh?_ He thinks to himself.

Black Tea Girl laughs again. Glancing behind him, Iroh sees Bolin with his eyebrows raised in surprise. He shoots him a thumbs up.

"I mean, uh. I guess, I don't really know much about you. And stuff."

Damn, he's so awkward. But she hasn't stopped smiling yet.

"Hm. Well, we could change that."

He can't even respond.

"What I mean to say is, we should do something soon, _Iroh." _

"…I don't even know your name."

"I'm Asami."

* * *

Note: I put this note on my tumblr too (same username). This was based my friend's experience. _Friend, _if you happen to see this, and you know who you are, sorry, don't chop off my fingers. (you really are pathetic though).


	4. Egghead

_Prompt: Birthday. _**  
**

_Summary__: Asami is a woman of wonders, but one incapability arises into a problem when Iroh's birthday rolls around.  
_

* * *

**Egghead**

Asami Sato can do men's work. She can take apart a Satomobile like it's a child's toy, and put it back together faster than any of her father's factory workers can. She knows Republic City like the back of her hand, and drives that Moped of hers like she has nine lives to spare.

Asami Sato can be a woman too. She can attract attention with a flick of her raven black hair or a bat of those long eyelashes that frame her mesmerizing green eyes. Men turn to stare at her when she walks down the street in her aviator pants, and women scowl in envy.

She's smart, beautiful and kicks ass. She's pretty much a superhero.

But perhaps the sole thing she cannot do is cook.

She' a fighter, not a housewife. It's never really bothered her that much that she's not a great cook, because she's never really needed to do it. Growing up in the lap of luxury, Asami only had to snap her fingers and she would be presented with a five course meal of her choosing. It's no wonder she doesn't even know how her way around the kitchen.

It's only when celebrations like birthdays come around that she gets into trouble. She can't plan a party, she feels like an awkward turtle duck when she dances, she hates alcohol and she can't be festive or cheery for squat. Most importantly, she can't bake a cake to save her life.

When Iroh's birthday rolls around, she's panicked, but she's also determined to do something memorable for it. That morning when Iroh has put on his uniform, kissed her goodbye and headed out to the docks, Asami calls in sick from work. She has to do something special.

Problem is, she doesn't know what.

Cook? She can't do anything in the kitchen. She'd probably burn the house down.

Bake? Same problem.

Surprise party? Too late notice.

So she does the only thing she can think of doing, which is visiting Korra and letting out all her sorrows.

"You know Asami, you could at least try cooking. It's not so hard, and I bet Mako and Bolin would love to help out."

"Ugh. I think I'm a lost case. I can't do anything."

"Do something simple. Elegant. Go out to dinner."

"Boring."

"Go out dancing?"

"He doesn't like dancing."

"Pro-bending match? Makapu Moose Lions vs. Bau Ling Buzzard Wasps are playing tonight."

"He doesn't follow pro-bending. He wouldn't have any idea what was going on."

Korra sighs. She seems pretty exasperated with her.

"I reckon you should bake a cake for him"

"Didn't I already tell you –"

"—yeah, you did, but just hear me out. It doesn't have to taste great; at least it comes from your heart and soul. He'll understand, Iroh's a nice guy. I think that's better than any present you can buy him."

Maybe she's right. It's about time she started taking chances are caring less about being perfect.

"Alright."

"Good on you, Asami."

Asami decides it's not a good idea when she actually gets to the kitchen (it sounded good coming out of Korra's mouth). She doesn't even have a cookbook of any kind, so she's going to have to improvise. She scavenges around their kitchen looking for the ingredients to bake a cake, when she realizes she doesn't know the first thing that goes into a cake.

Eggs? Butter? Both? Maybe neither.

Then there's the flavour, texture, icing, and how to decorate the damn thing.

Oh, baking is so confusing.

Asami manages to make her way to the step where she has to whisk the butter, eggs, sugar, and whatever else she put in there together with chopsticks. She whisks for a good two minutes, checks her progress and realizes that the stupid batter isn't creamy or soft enough. She whisks for what feels like a long, long time, and it's still as lumpy and inconsistent as before.

Frustrated, she throws it all out and does it again. And again, and again.

Why was this so difficult for her? She would probably find taking on an army easier than this. She had tried every batch, but they all just tasted like sandpapered sea prunes.

Her patience is worn very thin right now. She's about to pop.

Then on the last go, she's whisking so fast and angrily that the batter goes everywhere.

Asami just lets out a very unladylike groan of frustration. She takes the mixture in her hands (at this point she's so pissed she doesn't even care that she's getting it all over her clothes) and dumps everything in the bin. All of it. It doesn't even matter anymore.

It only matters if Iroh happens to walk through the door at that exact moment.

Which he does.

"You're home early…" she sighs. She looks up at him with the batter smeared all over her hands and shirt. He looks puzzled, but not angry at least.

"…what's going on?" he asks, going over to her and going to wipe the flour off her face.

"I tried okay? I tried to make you a cake for your birthday. But I can't bake or cook or anything, so this is what happened. I'm sorry that I'm so useless and I can't do anything, I really tried –"

Iroh's laughing. _Laughing. _

That little –

"Asami," he says gently, cupping her face in his hands, "you did a wonderful job."

It's Asami's turn to laugh. The kitchen is a total mess, she looks like a total mess, and her 'wonderful job' is a total mess.

"No, I'm serious. You really tried to do something lovely for me, even if it didn't go exactly as you planned…" he eyes the ingredients all over the table.

"I didn't even make a cake. And I don't have a present. _And _I wasted all the ingredients."

"Maybe not."

And before she can respond, he grabs a handful of flour and tosses it at her head.

With a shriek of surprise, Asami does too, taking her own handful of eggs and shamelessly smearing the yolk all over his fitted jacket (she'll do the laundry later). She's not giving up without a fight, even if it is his birthday.

* * *

Note: For like, the three people who read my last chapter, I'm sorry this is a pretty crappy chapter, just bear with me, please? I hope it gets better.


	5. Nothing's in the Roses

_Prompt: Family  
_

___Summary: Iroh will always put Asami first, even if she doesn't want to expose the most emotional part of herself to him just yet – on their two year anniversary, she does. _

* * *

**Nothing's in the Roses**

On the morning before their two year anniversary, Iroh find that there's been a note slipped under his front door in the night.

_Iroh, _

_I want us to go somewhere tomorrow. I'll be at yours at 9:00. Bring flowers would you? I love you. _

_Asami. _

The following day, she shows up at his house. Her expression is blank, solemn. She has a bouquet of white roses lying in her lap. She only manages to muster a small smile when he gets into the Satomobile.

"So. Where are we going?" he asks.

"You'll see," she replies, as she avoids his eyes and glances at the bouquet of red roses in his lap, her expression softens, "thank you for bringing those. They're her favourite."

Her voice is quieter and more detached than usual, and her mouth remains a straight hard line. Her words are much shorter too. Not as if she's angry, but more like she's conflicted on the inside. She only speaks when she has to, so they don't speak for the entire journey. They pull up outside some large ornate black gates, bordering a peaceful green area, decorated with hundreds of beautifully carved headstones.

The Republic City Cemetery.

Now he realizes where they're going.

Of the two years they've been together, Iroh's never heard Asami mention her parents.

He understands why she never mentions her father, she doesn't have to. He's plastered on the tabloids at his lowest, living out his sentence in a prison a mile underground. Big company tycoon turned criminal, now prisoner.

But she's never mentioned her mother. Iroh knows she visits her every year at the cemetery, but it usually hurts her to go anymore than that. He doesn't even know her name; he doesn't know anything about her. It seemed as if Asami was either burying all her memories about her mother, or she wanted to forget about her completely.

If she doesn't want to expose that core part of herself yet, it's okay with him.

Before she walks in, he catches her arm first.

"Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to if you don't want to."

She takes a deep breath and licks her lips hesitantly.

"I do," she says solemnly, "I do want to. It's time for you to meet."

They approach a rounded headstone right at the very edge of the area. It's relatively large compared to the others, carved with patterns of roses. Asami kneels down and places her roses down on the earth below the stone. She closes her eyes.

"Hi, Mom."

Iroh doesn't say anything; he wouldn't want to spoil this moment between them. So he just kneels down beside her and lays his red roses next to her white. He bows his head and prays to the spirits for Mrs. Sato to be in a better place. He prays for her to look out for her daughter. He's thankful to Mrs. Sato for bringing Asami into the world, and into his life.

Asami's eyes are glassy and wet but she's strong enough that her tears haven't spilled yet.

They still don't spill once they leave her mother's grave and go to sit on a bench in a memorial park nearby. There are a few headstones methodically placed around the edges, near the path, but other than that the park is completely empty. They sit in silence together for a few moments.

"Thank you for coming here with me today." She says, her voice rough.

"Thank you for taking me. It was an honor." He says graciously. She smiles gently.

"She would have liked you, you know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She would have said you reminded her of Dad when they were younger," her voice becomes softer, "she would say he was kind and generous. And he was handsome too, back in the day, if you can believe it."

Iroh chuckles and moves his hand to cover hers; it's cold. Asami leans back, her head resting on his shoulder. But her expression becomes dark again and her eyes are grave.

"He would put us first. The ones he loved, his family, friends. He was so selfless."

Iroh opts to keep quiet, instead just soothingly stroking her long black hair. It's best if he doesn't say anything.

"Everything's so different now." Asami says, and the tears she was holding in for so long and so well finally spill. They trickle down her cheeks slowly.

"May I?"

Always the gentleman, Iroh wipes the tears from her face. She half laughs, half sobs in approval.

"We should be getting home. Doing something less emotional." She says breathily, wiping the last of her tears away and standing up.

"First," Iroh says, gently stopping her. She turns around and sees that he's knelt down on one knee.

"Oh. You are not—"she says, her eyes wide and stepping back a little in shock. Iroh laughs.

"Not yet, it's okay." he says chuckling softly, but he presents a single red rose from behind his back.

"They were so beautiful, just like you. So I savored this one for you." She takes it with a smile which lights up the dark of the cemetery. She takes a hold of his hand and squeezes it.

"Thank you, Iroh." She says. He squeezes it back; it was once cold, now it's warm to the touch.

"I know that we won't get married today. I can't promise that I'll be the richest or most romantic husband," he says, kissing her hands, "but I can promise that I will always put you first."

Her eyes glisten, and she nods slowly.

"Thank you, Iroh." It's the only thing she can seem to say, but he'll take it as a good thing, because she's lost for words.

You don't have to be thankful for anything today." He says as he stands up and presses a kiss to her forehead, then her nose. Her eyes close and a soft smile across her face as she says -

"I'm thankful for you."


	6. Without Constellation

_Prompt: Dreams. _

_Summary: Star light, star bright, Iroh's wishing for Asami tonight._

* * *

**Without Constellation**

"Badgermoles earthbending."

"Square."

"Four headed Unagi with fangs."

"Triangle."

"The Dragon of the West."

"…another square."

"Asami."

"Iroh."

"You're spoiling the moment. None of those shapes are proper constellations."

"Okay. I've found Mount Makapu."

"A really big triangle doesn't count as Mount Makapu."

"Now who's spoiling the moment?"

Asami and Iroh have been at this for hours, lying face up in the grassy paddock gazing up into the sky. It's not a date, as much as Iroh would like to call it one, she's not ready to move on from Mako yet. But hey, he loves spending time with her, and the view and the sky tonight are beautiful.

The darkness is littered with thousands of tiny stars, illuminating every corner of the city. It's one of the brightest nights either of them have ever seen.

Stargazing isn't an interest to Asami, not anymore. It reminds her too much of someone – the pleasure Iroh takes in looking at shapes of stars in the sky mirrors that of her mother. She's noticeably quiet throughout the night and she keeps her words short.

"Hey. You alright?"

He's turned on his side to face her. Asami nods, smiling, but her eyes tell a completely different story. Iroh notices that glassy look she gets when she lies.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

She's not, but he doesn't want to push her. So they both lie on their backs again in silence. Suddenly the white spray of a shooting star twinkles quickly above their heads. Iroh gently moved his hand to where Asami's is lying and clasps it. She doesn't resist.

"Close your eyes and make a wish."

She does.

After a few moments, they flutter open. She stares straight up at the sky.

"What did you wish for?" she asks. Iroh smiles and shakes his head.

"I can't tell you that. Otherwise it won't come true."

Finally, she smiles too. For the first time that night, her mind doesn't seem to be wandering off somewhere else.

"My mother used to say that too. We did this a lot when I was younger."

"Stargaze together?"

"Yeah. She loved it," her voice becomes quiet, "a lot."

"Did she make a lot of wishes on falling stars?"

"She did. Even more than me. As a kid I really thought they would come true."

"But you don't anymore?"

"I don't know. I guess getting older opens your eyes to how stupidly naïve your dreams as a kid were."

"Well, we were all kids once. We all have stupid, naïve dreams."

Asami turns to him and props her head up on her elbow.

"What was yours, General?" she asks. Iroh sighs and grins bashfully.

"Well, in a way, I got exactly what I wanted as a kid."

"And what was that?"

"I got to sail the seven seas. That was my dream."

"Bull."

"Okay, fine. I wanted to be a pirate, okay? It's almost the same thing, isn't it?"

"Not at all."

Iroh's face falls playfully. (He knows it's basically the same thing).

"So. What was yours then?"

Asami shakes her head and turns onto her back to face the sky again.

"No, it's way too girlish and embarrassing."

"Hey. I just told you mine."

"Yeah, but that was cute and kind of irrelevant to me. This…isn't."

"Isn't cute, or isn't irrelevant…to me?"

"Both, I guess."

"Please, do tell."

Asami doesn't turn to face him, instead, she keeps her eyes on the stars. "I wanted to be a princess when I was a kid," she mumbles, "okay, it's out? No need to bring it up anymore, please?"

She bites her lip and a red flush colours her cheeks. Iroh doesn't think he's seen anything so adorable in his life.

"Why is that so embarrassing? It's no more embarrassing than 'pirate'."

"I was so naïve as a kid," she half sighs, half groans, "growing up I realized that that dream, as well as the others I had, were getting more and more improbable."

"Depends on what the others were. What were they?"

"I wanted to become the Avatar; I wanted to be able to talk to animals, I wanted to become the world's greatest Tsungi horn player. Etcetera, etcetera." She says nonchalantly, smiling while still blushing.

"You could still make that all happen," he rethinks this, and corrects himself, "maybe not the Avatar one. But all the others, you could make them happen."

Asami shakes her head, her black hair splayed all over the grass.

"I'm not committed enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not a dreamer, Iroh. I'm a realist. It'll never happen for me. Not the tsungi horn player, not the Avatar, not the princess. Not the nothing."

"Don't give up on yourself so easy. You're worth more," he says genuinely, even if she doesn't realize how genuine he's saying it, "and there's no reason you can't still be a princess, you know."

She rolls over and gives him a look. Hopefully that wasn't as obvious as it sounded. She raises her eyebrows for a second, but that's all.

"No, I don't think I'll ever be one. It's just a childhood fantasy. I was so spoiled back then – it'd be an easy step into royalty."

She sighs.

"So you don't think it'll ever happen?" Iroh asks cautiously.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I just don't think you should keep that door closed." He mumbles, shrugging.

"What do you mean by that?"

By now she's turned over on her side to stare at him with those green eyes. They're lasers boring into the depths of his soul. So he does what a chicken like himself who is too afraid to admit that he likes would do, and that is avoid the question completely.

"Well, why do you think it's irrelevant, first of all?"

"Don't avoid the question Iroh."

Damn her for being so persuasive. There's not much he can do if she's laying half a hand's span away from him in her loose fitting shirt and her aviator pants.

"I'm just saying. If you think it's irrelevant for me to know why your Princess dream is so embarrassing, then _I _think it's irrelevant for you to know why you shouldn't think you can't marry a prince."

She raises her eyebrow sharply.

"You're saying I can. Marry a prince, that is?"

"…yeah."

"And why would you say that?"

Her reaction is not what he expects. She's actually smirking, biting her lips and readjusting her position to lean on her elbow so she's looking down at his face.

Damn her for being so persuasive, again. Iroh shrugs and does his best to appear unnerved.

"You look…the way you do. And you're smart, and funny, and you know what you want."

"…and?"

"Well, you're…beautiful. And smart. And-"

"—funny, yeah. I know what I want. What are you trying to tell me, Iroh?"

"A lot of men are…interested in you."

Damn _himself _for being so awkward.

"I look the way I do, I'm smart, I'm funny, and I know what I want?"

"Yeah."

"And would someone like you, a prince, be interested in me, looking the way I do, being smart, funny and knowing what I want?"

"…yeah."

He's so damn awkward, but he hopes he got the message across okay.

Her face breaks into a smile. A genuine smile, not a half smirk, not a bashful grin, but a real smile. She got the message. She nods slowly, then she slides back down onto the grass, but nestles her head into the crook of his outstretched arm.

"You know what, Iroh?"

"What?"

"I'd like to be a princess someday."


	7. More So Than Regret

_Prompt: Honor _

_Summary: During his last moments, Iroh regrets that the last words he shared with the love of his life were nothing more than a lie._

* * *

**More So Than Regret**

Out on the battlefield, everything is in slow motion, and time drags to a stop, every second counts. A fallen soldier crumples to his knees, the bullet wedged into his chest. As the blood splatter of his comrade makes contact and burns his eye, General Iroh cries out and rubs his hand over it in an attempt to dim the stinging. It doesn't help, and the two seconds without sight gives an enemy the time to run over to Iroh, with one quick movement, release a ball of flame from his hand, right into his other eye. It burns in pain like he's never felt before.

People say that during your last moments, your life flashes before your eyes. The people you love, the ones you want to remember. The things which are most important to you, the memories worth keeping. The experiences shared, the love you've felt.

A flame to the eye hurts, but letting go of the memories and the people, hurt more.

Iroh realizes that the armed enemy is coming towards him, fast. Clutching his burned eye, he sees the man through a excruciatingly painful red lens. He sees the revolver in his hand too. Iroh fumbles around for his own but only finds his empty holster.

This is it.

A bloody eyed, unarmed general surrounded by the bodies of his comrades at the hand of fifty armed men with no mercy.

He closes his eyes.

If this is what death is, it will be less painful than surrender. At least he'll have gone down fighting. For his honor, for his country, for his family.

For her.

Even if she didn't know it, and never will. He fought for her, but admittedly, not in the right way. He should have fought to be by her side. It will be his greatest regret.

Even during his last moments, he can only think about how their last interaction should have been more than just a lie.

* * *

_Iroh and Asami love each other to no end, even after thirty years together. Yet, their arguments often become heated, if Iroh even mentions war.  
_

_ As Iroh's determination and motivation to fight for his country grows, his body becomes weaker and older with age. Unfortunately, so does Asami's patience. They sit at opposite ends of the table, a cup in front of each of them. The contents of both cups have gone cold, yet an air of apprehension hangs between husband and wife. The husband is first to speak.  
_

_"We've talked about this too many times…" _

_"I don't care." _

_"It's not our decision, it's _my _decision to make." _

_"You served for too long on that battlefield, Iroh," Asami says, distress and hurt illustrating her face. "I know you think it's your duty and your honor at stake if you don't, but it's not." _

_"It's not at stake, it just is. It _is_ my honor, it _is _my duty to defend our country! Why are you so against that?" _

_"Let others defend their country too. There are other men who are years younger, and much stronger and faster than you are to fight." _

_"Those are the ones who run and hide at the sight of a shotgun, Asami." _

_"For spirits sake, Iroh. It's time to stop." _

_She's pleading now, but she's also angry. Same fight, different night. Iroh shakes his head and runs his hands through his graying hair. _

_"I will never turn my back on my country, or my people, if they need me." _

_Asami chokes up tears of frustration, her hands balled up in fists, but her voice is quivering yet stern. _

_"You have spent so much of your life out there. When is it time for us, for your family?" _

_He grits his teeth. She's right, but he's not going to admit that. _

_"Every time you walk out that door, there is always a part of me scared you might never come back." _

_"I always will. I'll never leave you." _

_"You don't know that, Iroh."_

_"I'll make it happen." _

_"Well, you know what? Life doesn't always go your way." _

_They're both standing up and out of their chairs now. Asami's eyes glisten and her voice begins to shake. She swallows and speaks slowly. _

_"You are being selfish. You are only thinking of yourself." _

_Iroh balls up his hands. _

_"How dare you say that. I risk my life for this country!" _

_"Exactly! And how do you think that makes _me_ feel? That you feel like your honor is worth fighting for, but our marriage and thirty years together isn't?" _

_"This is more than just honor, Asami—" _

_"—is it? Then what is it about? Huh?" she's yelling, but crying at the same time. "Is it about your duty? Or your people? Or your country? What good will fighting do for them if you die?" _

_"They'll know I defended them." _

_Asami laughs in desperation. _

_"Defended them? Hah! Half of them would _never_ do that for you, do you know that? They're all cowards. That's why they'll never join you on the battlefield, Iroh!"_

_For some reason, that statement angers him more than the others. He slams his fists onto the table, immediately startling her. He's almost always the gentlemanly one; Asami is the one who's not afraid to get aggressive. But today, it drives him over the edge. _

_"If I want to protect my country, I will." _

_"But you won't care what happens to me if you're gone, will you?" _

_"That's ridiculous. Of course I would." _

_"Then you would stay here with me." _

_"No. I can't." _

_"Then leave." _

_This catches him off guard. The thirty years they've been together, those two words have never left her mouth through every fight, every argument, every disagreement, it's never reached that point. _

_"It's better you do it sooner rather than later." She mutters curtly, silent tears leaking from her eyes. _

_"I won't leave you like that, Asami. I love you." _

_"If you love me, you won't go." _

_He does love her. _

_"Okay. I'll stay." _

_She nods slowly. _

_He takes her to the bedroom after that. As they lie there together on the mattress, she rests her head on his chest, the sheets lying around her torso. They stay like that for a good hour, and a part of Iroh wishes they would never have to move. _

_"Iroh?" _

_"Hm?" _

_"I'm sorry, okay?" _

_Iroh feels a tear soak through the fabric of his shirt where her head is laying. _

_"I just don't know what I'd do without you." _

_The next hour, they spend in silence, as Iroh gently strokes and plays with her hair until she falls asleep. He wishes it could be this way forever. _

_He does love her. _

_But he has to do what is right. _

_So in the dead of night, he slips out of the house beneath the cover of darkness._

* * *

The only thing on his mind during his last moments, as a bullet punctures his chest, is what Asami was thinking when she woke up in that bed the next morning, alone.

_I'm sorry, Asami.  
_

A/N: Thank you for reading all the stuff I write on my iPod when I can't sleep at night this past week, you've been so awesome.


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